


When souls collide

by Cattuesmountain



Category: Reign (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-07
Updated: 2020-04-25
Packaged: 2020-06-24 00:13:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19712398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cattuesmountain/pseuds/Cattuesmountain
Summary: Can one single document from the past change the fate of an entire nation? And can two souls - who couldn't be more different - find each other, against all odds?





	1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: "Reign" or the characters used in it are not mine, sad but true :-( Violations of any rights are not intended.  
Pairing: Bash/Catherine - Basherine  
Rating: M / P16  
Kategorie: Romance, Drama  
Comment: We all know that Sebastian is only a fictional character and that the fate of the Valois family has taken a different course.  
But that's what I love about fanfiction: they allow our imagination to go new and unexplored paths.

When souls collide

"How can this be? That's impossible!" Catherine de Medici stared at the letter in her hands in disbelief. Hands that had begun to tremble slightly. All colour was slowly fading from her face and her right eye started to twitch nervously.  
"What happened?" Mary, the Queen of Scots wanted to know and gaped at her mother-in-law in alarm. She slowly rose from the other end of the table and hurried over to Catherine, who looked as pale as a ghost in her black yet elegant mourning dress.  
"This can't be true," the Queen Mother murmured instead of an explanation, whereupon Mary reached for the document that had put the older woman in such a state of shock.

The young Scot quickly scanned the flowing words and her eyes widened once she apprehended the full extent of this information.  
"The Pope has met Henry's request posthumously and legitimized Sebastian?"  
"At least that's what my spy in the Vatican says. Supposedly a mounted messenger is already on his way here with a papal decree. But why now? Henry passed away nearly two years ago."  
Catherine jumped to her feet with a vehemence that send her chair flying to the ground and caused Mary to recoil in alarm. "Oh no, I won't allow that bastard to rob my sons of their legacy!" With a chalky white hand, Catherine grabbed the knife in front of her and a determined, almost murderous expression lay itself on her grim features.

"Catherine," Mary warned her and looked helplessly back and forth between her mother-in-law and the letter. "Don't do anything rash!"  
The dangerous and doom-laden glint in Catherine's eyes didn't bode well.  
"Don't you worry, Mary. I'll rather do the opposite. My next action needs to be considered carefully," she pondered, looking with a surprised look at the knife in her hand as if she had no idea how it had gotten there. Catherine quickly laid it back on the table.

At this moment, Charles - France's true and only King - entered the salon. His usually so worrysome pale cheeks were red with excitement and a long-lost glow had reappeared in his eyes. This sight made her heart beat faster with motherly joy and pride. Until she noticed the man that appeared right behind her son. The man who was responsible for Charles' agitated and her upset condition. The Queen Mother unconsciously clenched her hands into fists.

"Mother, Mary! Look, I've hunted down a rabbit and a pheasant!"  
Radiating with joy and excitement, Charles presented his trophies and pointed at the poultry. "You love pheasant mother, don't you? I'll have it prepared for you for dinner."  
It was difficult for Catherine to put a smile on her face when all she could think of was strangling her son's half-brother with her bare hands.  
"That's great, Charles," she pressed out between her teeth and threw a deadly glare in Sebastian's direction. Henry's bastard stared back at her in irritation.  
"Catherine, Charles was in no danger whatsoever!" He assured her with a serious expression on his face. His words prompted the Queen Mother to laugh out loud. A bitter, joyless laughter.  
"No? And what do you call reaching for his crown, once Henry's and your mother's contemptible plot accelerated?"

Besides herself with rage, Catherine de Medici straightend up to her full height in front of the young man. Poisonous arrows that were directed at Sebastian were firing from her dark eyes.  
"Charles is and always will be the legitimate heir to the French throne and I swear to god that I will do everything within my power to retain his reign," Catherine hissed threateningly.

"Excuse me?"  
"Mother, what are you talking about?"  
Bash and Charles asked at the same time. Both of them were looking at Catherine in bewilderment.  
"I'm talking about that!" The Queen Mother spat and forcefully threw the letter she had received against Sebastian's chest.

There was a deadly silence in the salon while the half siblings read the message. Once they've finished, they stared at each other perplexedly.

"Okay, we should all calm down," Mary tried to intervene. She was obviously sensing the growing tension in the room and was starting to feel uncomfortable. "Catherine, maybe your spy was mistaken? Because officially the Vatican has not yet taken a firm stand on this subject and..."

A knock at the door interrupted the Queen of Scots.  
"Your Majesties" The young servant boy bowed to those present. "A messenger from the Vatican has just arrived. And a messenger from Florence, from the House of Medici."

At this revelation, Catherine gave Mary a self-opinionated look that could only be interpreted with 'What did I tell you?'. Gracefully the Queen Mother straightened her skirts.  
"We will meet them in the throne room," she arbitrarily decided and left the room without waiting for the others.  
No matter how urgent or important the message from her relatives was, she would not dream of missing out on the message from the Vatican.

With long strides, flying skirts and prepared for the worst, Catherine de Medici hurried towards the throne room. Mary, Charles and Sebastian were right on her heels. But before the Court Marshal could open the heavy oakwood door for her, the Queen Mother impatiently pushed it open herself and crossed the hall.

"Say, what you got for us?" Catherine bawled at the messengers, who were waiting for the arrival of the sovereigns, visibly exhausted from their long rides. No one dared to question her authority.

"Your Majesty, I have a letter for you from Florence, from your cousin. It is of utmost importance. I was told to..." Catherine tore the letter out of the hand of the surprised man, but did not bother to read it just now. With a resolute gesture she silenced the man and turned to the second messenger instead.  
"What about you?"  
"A message for Sebastian de Portiers and one for Lord Stephane Narcisse," announced the young man, who obviously felt uncomfortable under the serious and indignant stares that were all directed at him.

Bash stepped forward and reached for one of the letters with a papal seal. Catherine impatiently urged him to open it.  
Then she watched Henry's bastard reading the lines with a serious expression on his face. Once he had finished, his eyes widened in disbelief.  
"That's impossible," he finally stammered and regardsless of his privacy, Catherine snatched the letter from his fingers.

Mary and Charles, giving in to their curiosity, joined her by reading over her shoulders. When the Queen Mother reached the end of the letter, she let the paper silently slip out of her hands and grabbed the back of a chair to steady herself.  
"If father actually legitimized Sebastian two year ago with the Pope's consent, then he is the rightful King of France, not me," Charles mumbled and his mother thought she could detect a hint of relief in his voice.  
Both Bash and Catherine shook their heads.

While she was still fighting hard to stomach her shock, Catherine de Medici ripped open the seal of her own letter and let her eyes fly over the message her cousin has send her. The message contained a similar wording, but it also challenged her to prevent the bastard from being crowned at all costs.

"There's a message for me?" Stephane Narcisse's deep baritone could be heard from the other end of the hall and Catherine could not suppress a shiver at the sight of her former lover.  
Not only had he shamelessly exploited and betrayed her, he had also blackmailed her son Francis and nearly instigated a war. To top it all he had countenanced the charge of regicide against her without any remorse, where Stephane had willingly condoned the possibility of her losing her head.

Only Mary's and Sebastian's courageous intervention had saved her from certain death. Without them, she probably wouldn't be standing here right now. The fact that Bash of all people had helped her to prove her innocence seemed like a cruel irony of fate.

"Why is Narcisse always present as soon as trouble fills the air," she whispered in Mary's direction, who reached for Catherine's hand in a comforting gesture. She questioningly pointed at the letter from her Medici family.  
"They want me to... oh for god's sake, read it yourself," the Queen Mother started to explain but then she just handed her friend the letter in question while she watched Narcisse's reaction to the message he had reveived from Rome.

For the fraction of a second the expression on his handsome face changed and his gaze met hers, but then an illegible mask lay itself upon his features.  
"Sebastian, a word?" Lord Narcisse asked once he'd finished in a calm, expressionless voice and all people present held their breath.  
"What about, Narcisse?" Bash asked him with suspicion in his eyes and Catherine wondered what kind of information Stephane had received.

Without doubt the Vatican had informed him about Sebastian's legitimation and the change in order of succession. She feared that the Pope had assigned the task of executor at French court to the intriguing Lord, a devout Catholic.  
"About your entitlement to the throne of France."

Narcisse indicated a terse bow. A sure sign that he had already taken a side in this inheritance battle. And that was the side of her late husband's bastard.

"There's a lot to consider and to regulate, my young friend. The official announcing of your legitimation will not only show you your true friends. First and foremost it will show you who your enemies are. Not every noble man will be happy to see you on the throne. Some of them will only accept Catherine's sons as France's true heirs." While saying this, Narcisse provocatively looked over at Catherine and Charles and the Queen Mother had to summon up all her self-control in order to detain herself from spitting at this goddamned Judas.

"And you, Lord Narcisse...?" Sebastian left the rest of his question unsaid.  
"I am on the side of the eldest legitimate son of my late King Henry II. On your side, Sebastian, the side of law and order," Stephane announced with a solemn expression on his face that eliciting a sound of indignation from Catherine.  
"On the side of law and order? I wouldn't know anything about that." Mary mocked and seemed as outraged by the Lord's words as her former mother in law.

"I think we should talk in private, Sebastian," Lord Narcisse urged. "We have to get access to the original document as soon as possible to confirm your entitlement and the Privy Council needs to be summoned immediately."  
Narcisse grabbed Bash by the arm and literally dragged him out of the door.


	2. Chapter 2

When the door was closed behind the men, Catherine feared that she was close to fainting. Feeling more desperate than ever, the Queen Mother flopped down on a chair and buried her face into her shaking hands.  
"If Henry has indeed legitimized him with Rome's consent, then that makes it nearly impossible to undo what's done. Narcisse is right. Some of the noblemen won't recognise his legitimacy, yet enough of them will take Narcisse's side. This shifty dog! I wonder what the Pope has promised him for putting Sebastian on the throne," Catherine pondered.

If Francis were still alive and in Charles' place, things would very likely be different. Francis had already been of age at his coronation, and he had been married to the Queen of Scotland. Charles, on the other hand, was a boy unable to cope with the current situation, who strongly resisted the course of his own fate. He had made it clear that he dreaded being king more than once.

And she was to blame for his lack of cooperation. For unlike Francis, who had already seen the light of day as the heir of the French throne, Charles had never been prepared for a possible succession as king. To make matters worse, the boy had hardly ever seen his own father, the late king, outside of official occasions. Henry's attention had mainly been drawn to Sebastian and Francis. He had paid little to no attention to his younger children and only at her insistence. Too little to now draw self-confidence and strength from it.

As if guessing her dismal thoughts, her son sat down next to her and reached out for one of her hands.  
"Mother, maybe this is for the best. Sebastian would be a better king than me." Charles lowered his head in resignation. "I know that I'm failing you," he said quietly, causing Catherine to jump up from her chair.  
"How can you believe that?" she wanted to know, and stared down at her son who helplessly tried to blink away the tears that threatened to well up in his eyes.

"Maybe your reign came too early, my son, but that doesn't mean that you can't grow into it."  
"I wish Francis were still alive." Charles' words caused not only Catherine to nod sadly but also Mary. "He should be king. Neither me nor Sebastian."  
"I know, my child, I know," Catherine agreed gently and when she realized that her sensitive son's eyes were shimmering with moisture, she pulled him into a maternal embrace. "Believe me, Charles, so do I. But that doesn't bring us Francis back. And it is our duty to retain his legacy. YOU are the legitimate heir and Henry's legitimate son."

"But according to the pope and this letter, Sebastian is also a legitimate son and him being older than me makes him the heir," Charles objected with an almost pleading expression in his eyes.  
"Charles, YOU are the rightful king of France," Catherine protested with a vehemence that made her son flinch.  
"I wish that weren't the case," was his quiet, barely audible answer.  
Before one of those present could react, the king fled the throne room.

XXX

Catherine spent her next hours trying to find a way out of the inevitable. She studied ancient documents and contracts she had taken after Henry's death and desperately searched for a loophole, but she found nothing that could help her. From a former servant of her late husband she learned that Henry had burned lots of papers during the terrible time Navarre had poisoned his mind. Shortly after Francis had married the Queen of Scots. And although the valet didn't know what kind of papers Henry had been destroying, Catherine suspected that these were the official documents of Sebastian's legitimisation, since they had become needless after Mary had chosen Francis over Sebastian.

Afterwards Catherine spoke to nobles and members of the Privy Council to strengthen her position. Men she believed felt well-disposed towards her and Henry's legitimate children. All the time worrying about their future until a throbbing pain robbed her of every means of propper thinking.

Feeling daunt and terribly exhausted, Catherine returned to her chambers. Motionless she stared at her pale and haggard image in the mirror. When she could no longer bear her own sight, the Queen Mother closed her eyes in resignation.

Then she did something she hadn't done for a long time.  
She prayed.

For the House Valois, for Charles and for herself.

XXX

When she opened her eyes again after a few minutes of silent contemplation, Catherine de Medici was staring straight into the smug face of the young servant tending the fires in the castle. Her lover.  
"Christophe! My God, you can't just sneak into my chamber like that," she rebuked him and felt strangly annoyed about her own inattentiveness.  
"I knocked and you didn't answer. So I entered."

Christophe let his hands wander to the collar of her black robe that was lavishly decorated with golden embroidery and arbitrary opened the button facing.  
"Not now," Catherine hissed and slapped away his eager hands.  
"No? To me it seems, however, that you are in urgent need of the distraction I can offer you." The young man doubted her with an impertinent arrogance in his voice, that would have certainly infuriated the Queen Mother if she hadn't already granted him certain privileges to her body.

His hands kept on fidgeting with her robe and this time he didn't allow her to stop him, but ripped the garment from her shoulders with determination. Then he jerked Catherine up and before she could even react, his mouth took possession of her lips with an urgent, almost brutal kiss.  
All her resistance slackened when his tongue aggressively demanded admission and his hands began to peel her out of her dress.

Soon the rough fabric of his clothes grazed the naked and sensitive skin of her chest. Christoph impatiently pushed her skirts up and with one jerk he lifted her up and violently thrust her back that she suddenly found herself sitting on her dressing table. When her naked back collided with the cold surface of her mirror, Catherine let out a half frightened, half surprised shriek, causing her young lover to attack her lips with another arrogating kiss to silence her.


	3. Chapter 3

Sebastian de Portiers was under the impression that the world he knew had shattered into millions of pieces right before his very eyes. Only to reassemble itself overnight into this strange parallel world that was new and foreign to him.  
Above was below, right was left and he was supposed to be the rightful King of France all of a sudden?

A sheer incomprehensible idea, especially after the drama his mother had provoked with her wicked plan to legitimize him. A plan she and Mary had whispered into Henry's ear so many times that in the end his father had believed it had been his idea. It wouldn't have taken much and not Francis, but he would have been King of France and Mary's husband.  
Even less had been lacking and Catherine would have lost her head over it, because Henry had been wildly determined to get rid of her in order to clear the path of legitimation for his bastard son. Well, and because she had commited adultery.

And though his father had not pursued his plan to the end, partly because of his crescive madness and partly because Mary had chosen Francis over him, the pending request of legitimation had obviously still been granted by the Vatican.  
Why this damn document only now came to light, nearly two years later, was a mystery to him.

Why on earth did the Pope prefer a bastard over a non-controversial heir on the French throne? A heir that may be a minor, afflicted by melancholy, but nevertheless the boy had more rights to the throne than himself in Sebastians eyes.

In the blink of an eye this development had turned his life upside down. The courtiers and the noblemen were already treating him differently. Narcisse in the first place.  
Catherine de Medici on the other hand had tried to stab him with her very eyes the moment she had realized the thread he had become. A reaction that didn't surprise him in the least.

His half-brother's - the present King's - reaction however, had surprised him.  
Charles had summoned him after his conversation with Narcisse and the Privy Council where both parties had unexpectedly assured him their support.  
When he had entered the King's chambers afterwards, Bash had been prepared for accusations or even a vociferous dispute, but his younger brother had only asked for his presence to confess that he was willing to give up his throne only too happily and without resistance.

A strange situation that had left Sebastian speechless. At that moment he had realized that Charles was still only a child. A child that was afraid of the responsibilities imposed upon a monarch.

Bash was also afraid. After all, he had already experienced firsthand what it meant to carry the burden of an entire state on one's shoulders. Therefore he could very well imagine how frightened the boy had to be.  
At the end of their conversation Charles had embraced him and muttered: "Please, Bash!"

The conversation that lay ahead of him now, would certainly be less conciliatory. In fact, it frightened him more than the prospect of becoming King.

Mentally preparing himself, Bash set out for Catherine's chambers. He took a deep breath before raising his hand to knock at her door. A suppressed cry, however, let him pause for a second in puzzlement, then he stormed into the room with his sword raised.

He didn't know what to expect, maybe an intruder or perhaps Catherine had somehow hurt herself. What he didn't expected, however, was to catch a half-naked queen mother in the act with one of the servants.

Sebastian stared in the direction of the dressing table, where a young man was standing butt naked with his trousers down. Catherine was sitting on that table, her upper body exposed and her wide skirts pushed up and billowed around the servant's legs.

A startled cry escaped her lips as soon as she stotted Bash. A sound that could not, however, pull Sebastian out of his rigor. As if hypnotized, he just stared at the intertwined couple in front of him.

"Get out!" Catherine shouted at him in anger and her lover drove around to face Sebastian. By doing so he unwillingly granted Bash an unhindered view at Catherine's lush breasts before she could cover herself.

"What do you think you're doing?" the servant asked him with an arrogance that was completely out of place.

"Get OUT! Both of you," his late father's wife screamed and her loud voice finally tore Bash out of his frozen state. Murmuring a shamefaced apology, Sebastian put down his sword. Then he left the Queen Mother's chambers and let himself fall against the next best wall, feeling flustered and distraught.

With pinched eyes he tried to suppress the image that had burned itself deeply into his irises. The image of a half-naked Catherine de Medici, sitting on her dressing table, roughly being taken by her servant boy.  
"Oh God, I can't believe that just happened," he muttered in a state of shock.

Sebastian could still hear Catherine's angry voice coming out of her bedchamber. Shortly thereafter her young lover stepped outside. His face looked like a furious mask of wrath.  
It was quite obvious that Catherine had thrown him out without finishing what they've started.  
When the boy saw Sebastian, he glared at him in the most hostile way and hurried away.

Bash decided to take flight as well. After what he had just witnessed, he found himself unable to face Catherine without either of them feeling embarrassed.

But the images of what he had just seen followed him on his way back to his chambers. Only after he had locked the door behind him, did Bash dare to take a deep breath and release the air from his lungs that he had been holding longer than necessary in his disturbed state.  
"Catherine has a lover," he whispered breathlessly. "A very young lover."

It was no secret that the queen mother had maintained an affair with Lord Narcisse after Henry's death, who was of the same age. Nor was it a secret that this whirlwind affair had come to a bad end.

But not even in his wildest dreams had he imagined that Catherine could be intimate with such a young man, not to mention a servant. That boy was for sure even younger than Sebastian!

Once again, the picture of a half naked Catherine sitting on top of her dressing table reappreared before his mind's eye, evoking all those long forgotten feelings in him.  
Seeing her in her undressed state brought to light all the thoughts and fantasies he had entertained as a young adolescent. The lovesick obsession of a pubescent boy for his father's wife. A married and unreachable woman.

He still couldn't tell what it was that drew him to Catherine de Medici throughout his life. She wasn't even the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, not to mention that she could be unspeakably cold and cruel. Especially to him, her husband's bastard.

But the times when he had been on the receiving end of her kindness or even maternal love as a child had secured her a place in his heart beyond recall. And over the years his feelings towards her had changed.

The turning point had been a hot day in July. Sebastian had been twelve or thirteen years old and he happened to come across Catherine and some of her servants and ladies in waiting at a remote lake. At first he hadn't even noticed his father's wife. He had laid at some distance, hidden in the grass and had been observing things going on down by the lake.

Only when the women had returned to shore, dripping wet with their undergarments becoming transparent from the water, had he noticed that the Queen was among them.  
She, too, had cooled down in the lake, and her white undergarment, adorned with an elegant lace trimming, had stuck to her body in the most delightful way. A body composed of feminine curves and valleys. A sight that had accelerated his breathing and done things to his inexperienced body he had never felt before.

On that day, thanks to Catherine, he had first experienced the pleasure of being a man.

The memories of that hot day in July, combined with the recent image of her naked breasts, her reddened cheeks and her slightly deranged hair, caused heat to rise in the lower regions of his body. It had been a while since Catherine had ruled over his thoughts in this special way, but he welcomed the familiar tingling nevertheless and once again surrendered to his carnal fantasies.

When Bash awoke with a start after a way too short night that had been anything but restful, he first thought he'd just had the most surreal yet realistic dream, where he had not only seen Catherine de Medici half-naked, but where he was also supposed to become King of France.  
It had taken him a moment to realise that none of this had been a dream, but the hard and cold reality.  
How on earth could this have happened?


	4. Chapter 4

Bash decided to contact his mother, who - with her intrigue - was the one who had unwillingly set the ball rolling in the first place. He hadn't heard from her for ages.  
Not after she had deliberately risked his half-siblings lifes during Count Vincent's hostage-taking. A bitter yet dangerous man who had thirsted for revenge.  
And not after learning about her condemnable role in little Emone's and Henrietta's death. Her action had prompted him to break with her.  
But perhaps now was the time to reconciled their differences and overcome wrong decision makings of the past. At least he could use her advice in this surreal situation he found himself in right now.

For he could not consult his father, nor ask his brother Francis for advice, who had been his best friend all his life. And asking the only other person whose opinion he would like to hear, was totally out of question because of conflicting interests.  
Catherine de Medici would rather bite off her own arm than lending him a helping hand since he was threatening her son's inheritance.

Maybe he could find a sympathetic ear in Mary. Although being Francis' widow, the former Queen of France and Catherine's friend, she was not completely unbiased, but he valued her friendship and knew that the Queen of Scots was able to put her personal conflicts aside for his sake.

The conversation he'd had with Stephane Narcisse was still fresh in his mind. The Lord had promised his support as well as the support of many nobles Narcisse called his friends. He had buttered him up and reminded him how loyal he had been to his father and that he, Sebastian, resembled Henry more than his weak and weepy half-brother Charles.

Narcisse had been very clear about the fact that he disliked the growing influence Catherine had gained over her underaged son. His ambivalent feelings towards the Queen Mother didn't surprise Bash.  
Since his attempt to frame Catherine for the murder of her eldest son, Narcisse feared her revenge and he would practically do anything to oust his former lover.  
Sebastian knew that any promise the power-hungry and scheming lord made, were to be taken with a grain of salt. Narcisse had his own agenda about the favours he desired to receive in return for his support.  
He for sure wasn't helping Bash out of selflessness.

But if he really wanted to assert his now possibly legitimate claim, he had no choice but to accept Narcisse's help. And he would have to talk to Catherine, rather sooner than later. He needed to assure her that this new development had not been induced by him and that Charles actually wanted to defer the throne to Sebastian, no matter how much his mother wanted to see her own son on said throne.

If it weren't for last night's incident. The thought alone made him blush with shame. Not about what he had seen, more about what he had done in the seclusion of his chamber afterwards.

Unable to cope with all the things he had to deal with nowadays, he had even sent Delphine away, a woman with whom he'd had a casual, purely physical relationship. He couldn't afford any other distraction and he had no illusion about the fact that they had no future together.

Even Narcisse had advised him to do so. He had also suggest a beneficial marriage with the daughter or niece of a wealthy nobleman, preferably his own niece Amelie. Or maybe a marriage with a princess from another European royal house. A connection of this kind would strengthen his claim and demonstrate other countries that France not only had a new king, but also a new ally.

In addition Narcisse had strongly advised against marrying the now widowed Mary Stuart. According to him, France should be glad to be rid of money devouring little Scotland. And although Bash knew how desperately Mary needed to find a suitable husband to protect her country, a marriage with his brothers former wife was unthinkable for him. No matter how much he liked her.  
Mary had chosen Francis at the time. A choice that had hurt, but also a choice he had learned to accept and respect.

His pride however prevented him from ever considering this possibility again.  
No man on earth wanted to be considered a half hearted, second best choice. Moreover, his feelings for Mary had changed. He no longer felt that tingling feeling of excitement as soon as he caught sight of her and his heart didn't start pounding like crazy when she entered a room.  
Mary was a dearly-loved friend, a person he cherished and would always be loyal to, but also a woman he could never be happy with as a couple. Of that he was sure.

Frankly speaking, he didn't want to remarry. His first and only experience as a husband had been bitter enough to last him a lifetime. He would be forever grateful to his late brother and best friend for urging Rome to annul his marriage with Kenna.  
But now Narcisse and his noble friends expected him to find a suitable bride and future Queen as fast as possible. A prospect he didn't like at all.

A messenger boy in Narcisse's service chose this moment to deliver a letter from the officiating privy council. They informed Sebastian that a small delegation of emissaries had been choosen and sent to Rome to verify the authenticity of the document.  
If this delegation were to confirm the document's authenticity unanimously and thus confirm his legitimacy, he, Sebastian de Portier, would be the rightful King of France.  
The fact that underaged Charles hadn't yet been crowned would make the change of power much more simple.

Sighting heavily, Sebastian put the letter aside. Once he realised that there was a very real chance of him ascending his farthers and Francis' throne, Bash ran his fingers through his dark hair in frustration. That thought frightened him.

What he needed now was a distraction. Hence he slipped into comfortable clothes and hurried off towards the stables to clear his head with a ride.

But when he rushed around the first corner, Sebastian ruggedly collide with another person.  
"Watch out where you're going!" None other than Catherine de Medici snapped at him. Instantaneously his heart stopped beating, only to start hammering wildly against his ribs a second later.

Catherine's facial expression changed from annoyance to displeasure as soon as she realized who'd just bumped into her.  
"You..." she hissed angrily and hatred struck him from deep within her brown, souldful eyes.  
"Catherine," Bash started but then broke off due to a lack of fitting words. There was only chaos in his head at the sight of her.  
"Get out of my way!" Her ungracious, snippy tone almost deprived him of his will to insist on this much-needed conversation. But then he shrugged and told himself that a monarch shouldn't avoid unpleasant duties. And standing up to Catherine de Medici would be an excellent baptism of fire as future king.

"Catherine, I've got to talk to you. Please." Sebastian realized too late that his words did not sound like a demand, but rather like a nice request, determined by his uncertainty. This uncertainty for sure had not escaped Catherines attention either. For with a smug smile on her face, as if secretly making fun of him, the Queen mother picked up her skirts and set about leaving him dumbfounded standing there without a word of reply.


	5. Chapter 5

Her reaction set an inexplicable rage deep inside of Sebastian free which prompted him to courageously grab Catherine's upper arm to prevent her from leaving.  
"But I insist." The friendliness in his voice had given way to resoluteness. His reaction caused Catherine to raise her left eyebrow in astonishment.  
"You are not King yet. And if I have any say in this, you will never be."

Sebastian did not let himself be intimidated by her.  
"But chances are high that I will be crowned in the near future. And that will also make me your king." Bash paused, giving his words time to sink in. Then he added in a conciliatory tone: "I just want to talk to you in private, Catherine." He said, hoping that she would eventually give in.  
"Fine. Say what you have to say. I don't have all day." She wouldn't let him savor his little triumph but hurried ahead so Bash could only follow her, shaking his head.

Catherine stormed into the map room and built herself up behind the desk, making the distance between them much more obvious.  
"Do tell, what is of such urgency that it can't wait, Sebastian? Or do you intend to just stare at me like you did the night before?"  
There was one thing he had to give his late father's wife: Catherine had balls.  
He wouldn't have had the guts to address this embarrassing moment where he had burst into her intimate tête-à-tête with her servant boy.

If someone else than the legendary and greatly dreaded Catherine de Medici were standing in front of him, he would certainly give that person a less civilised answer. But Bash swallowed the sharp remark that was on the tip of his tongue and told her in his most neutral tone of voice: "I want to talk to you about Charles".  
"Oh, you want to talk about your half-brother, the boy whom you deprive of his heritage?" she bite back angrily.

He remembered as if it were yesterday how she had declared to young Charles that Bash was only Henry's bastard, not his brother.  
Words like these, destined to punish him for something Henry had once done to her, have never stopped having an effect on Sebastian. They had never left him cold. But over the years Bash had learned how to hide his vulnerability.

He wondered if Catherine had ever realized that her younger sons had not learned from Henry but from him how to build a bow. He had taught them how to ride a horse and how to disarm a combatant. He, the so-called bastard, had played a more active role in the little Valois princes's lifes than their own father.

"Have you ever bothered asking Charles if he wants to inherit father's and Francis' legacy at all?"  
"Charles is still a child," Catherine cried out in indignation. "And this legacy frightens him to death. But that does not mean that I will allow anyone stealing it from him."  
"I never asked for being legitimized, Catherine."  
"Then refuse. Decline the crown!" She demanded vehemently and stepped around the table to face him.

Once again Sebastian realized how petite Catherine actually was. But he wouldn't make the mistake of underestimating her because of her height.  
Bigger men than Bash had done this in the past and all of them had paid dearly.  
"That's not exactly an easy thing to do with the Vatican, Narcisse and the Privy Council breathing down my neck, eager to put me on the throne."  
"Then think of Charles."  
"I do," he explained, searching for the correct words to explain his situation. "It was actually Charles who asked me to take his place."

"That's impossible! He would never say anything like this! I can't believe that."  
"He did, Catherine. No one is happy with this situation. Including myself. But what do you expect me to do if the only reason to refuse the throne - my brother Charles - asks me not to?"  
He didn't want to give in to his despair, much less with Catherine witnessing his weakness, and yet his mask consisting of false Bravado decayed more and more right in front of their very eyes.

"I'll talk to Charles," she finally pressed out between her teeth and from the tone of her voice Bash knew that she wouldn't back down.  
"It may not be your fault, Sebastian, but I can't let anything like that happen."  
It felt as if she was apologizing in advance for any act of destruction her brilliant mind would come up with in the next couple of days.  
The thought alone made him shudder.

With a woman like Catherine on his side, any man could win battles, even wars and if he wasn't careful, she would be responsible for his downfall before the star of his reign had even risen.  
He needed her on his side, he needed her support, otherwise she would most likely ruin him.

But how could he win over the most powerful woman of France? A woman who saw her power vanishing and who would not shy away from destroying him and anything dear to him.  
Maybe by holding the prospect of even more power over her?

At this point he couldn't possibly offer her a seat in his privy council, since the other members of said council would withdraw the support they had promised him more quickly than he could mutter the word "Reign". They would not tolerate a woman in their midst, especially not Catherine de Medici. First and foremost Lord Narcisse, his self-proclaimed mentor.  
He had to find another solution. And he'd better find it quickly since he valued staying alive.

When Catherine now made an effort to leave the room, he let her go without objection.


	6. Chapter 6

The following weeks felt like running a gauntlet. Everyone was dragging and pulling at Sebastian, vying for his attention, and if it hadn't been for Mary who stood by his side as a friend and his most trusted adviser, he for sure would have gone insane by now.

Bash knew that Charles was also sitting on pins and needles. But unlike Sebastian, his younger half-brother longed for the end of his own misery.  
Contrary to his mother's wishes, Charlie kept on visiting Sebastian as he was seeking his comfort. The relationship between him and the boy was getting even closer in these tense times.

He could only imagine what Catherine de Medici was thinking about their growing closeness.  
He on his own part tried very hard to avoid her. A task that wasn't too difficult since Lord Narcisse did everything in his power to keep him away from harmful influences. And Narcisse certainly classified Catherine as such.

Most likely not with the intention of protecting Bash but for reasons that were of a much more selfish nature. For Narcisse also feared her revenge.  
Bash assumed that the scheming Lord hoped to get protection from his former and very angry Medici lover in the long term. And who would be more suited to provide him with this protection but Frances future King who would minimize Catherine's influence at court right at the moment of his coronation?

Narcisse was a natural gambler and obviously he had bet on the most promising horse at court. On Sebastian. And the Lord was certain that he had chosen the right horse. So certain that he had already dressed Sebastian in the most expensive and royal looking clothes. His new wardrobe was made of finest fabrics and noblest origin.  
In fact, Bash felt like a self-loving peacock when he looked at his reflection in the mirror.  
If only he would feel as majestic as he looked.

xxx

The general tense time of waiting came to an end when - on the morning of the twenty-seventh day - the door of the throne room was torn open and the small delegation of emissaries who had traveled to Rome entered. All of them were wearing serious expressions on their faces that gave no indication of a possible outcome of their investigations. Sebastian, who was sitting at a table with some members of the king's privy council, rose at their sight and held his breath in fearful anticipation.  
It seemed that the moment of truth had come.

A queasy feeling was spreading through Bash's innards and he felt nausea creeping up his throat. Out of the corner of his eye he saw that Catherine de Medici had also risen. She was standing upright in the opposite corner of the room, her pale fists clenched in tension, and stared at the returnees from Italy. The look in her eyes was murderous.

One of them - Lord Marceaux – stepped forward and slowly approached Sebastian. When he reached the young man, he lowered his head and took a perfect bow.  
"Your Majesty," he started, causing everyone else present to take a bow as well.  
All except Catherine, who sank back onto her chair, her trembling hands in front of her chalk white face.  
"The document that declares you a legitimate son of Henry Valois the Second has been authenticated. This makes you the rightful King of France. LONG LIVE THE KING!"

All men and women present joined in his cheers and for a moment Bash was afraid that he would lose his sense of reality.  
He now WAS the King of France!

xxx

The days that followed this announcing felt like an irrepressible frenzy for Sebastian.  
Strangers were congratulating him, there was an endless coming and going of petitioners and members of the privy council, one meeting after another, followed by countless audiences.  
Not to mention festive banquets, hunting parties and all sorts of other pomp.

Sometimes his head buzzed with all the information directed at him and all decisions that needed to be made. Some of these things couldn't even wait until after his coronation, which would take place tomorrow.  
In honor of this event, an ostentatious masked ball was planned for this evening, a ball every Lord and Lady of distinction has been invited to as well as multitudinous delegations from abroad.  
In Narcisse's eyes, there was no better time to look for a possible bride and his future queen for France. An endeavor Sebastian dreaded.

A tentative knock at the door interrupted Bash's pondering.  
"Am I interrupting, Bash?"  
"You could never interrupt, Mary. In fact, the sight of you is the most delightful thing that happened to me today." He noticed how ungrateful and disgruntled he sounded, but there was no need for him to show false restraint when Mary was present. She was probably the only person who knew how he felt deep insight.

"This doesn't sound like someone with all of France and half of Europe at his feet. I wish I had only one third of these lucrative marriage candidates at my disposal. Ladies are practically lining ups for you, Bash."  
"I didn't ask them to do so. I just can't understand why Narcisse is pushing me so hard towards a marriage. With all the things coming down on me right now. Now he also wants me to search for a wife... ", Bash broke off and tugged at the heavy chain that adorned his royal blue lapel in discomfort. "I always seem to be out of luck when it comes to women."  
"Narcisse has a point, I'm afraid. Marrying into an influential family would strengthen your position. And who knows, maybe there is that one woman out there who will turn your fate to the better. The one you're meant to be with. You just have to find her," the Queen of Scots tried to encourage him.

Upon hearing this, Bash felt ashamed for whining. Mary had her own worries. She too had to find a suitable husband in order to save her country, but her choice was much more limited than his. This ball was her best chance to seek new alliances.  
Therefor Sebastian put on a brave face, reached for his mask and offered his arm to Mary.  
"Then we should jump right into the fray and start looking out for potential candidates of marriage. There are hearts out there that want to be conquered."

When the two monarchs entered the crowded ballroom, the noise level instantaneously died away and all eyes were directed at Sebastian.  
Those present paid him their respect by bowing and curtsying as Sebastian passed by. But the unwillingness of some of the lords didn't escape his attention. These men didn't openly display their hostility, their protest was of a much more subtle nature. Furtive glances that reflected their displeasure or even a provocation, a bow that was not deep enough or mockingly twisting the corners of their mouths.  
Sebastian forced himself not to lose his composure and to unwaveringly move on. With a brave smile on his lips and Mary at his side he reached the gallery. Only then did he let go of Mary's hand and climbed the few steps that lead to his throne.  
Once he sat, the bulky Court Marshal began to read out the names of those present, who eagerly introduced themselves to their new King as well as their numerous daughters of marriageable age. It was the most nerve-racking ceremony that put Sebastian's patience to test.

Just when his mind and spirit was about to flee into the woods, he noticed that the doors of the hall were pulled opened and a petite woman slipped into the room. She was wearing some kind of cape that was hiding her face. Only when she took it off did Bash recognize her. It was Catherine de Medici. Sebastian was mildly surprised by her late appearance, but it was her outfit that blew him away.

For she was wearing a voluminous, elaborately worked red gown that was made of finest silk. Her wide skirts had a short train that made her look even more majestic. The upper part of the dress, however, was incredibly tight and emphasized her feminine curves. Her neckline was unusually low-cut by Catherine's standards and a golden necklace edged with large rubies adorned her décolleté. Her long hair was only partially pinned up and the remaining golden curls fell over her left shoulder in gentle waves.  
The mask she was holding was of the same bright color as her dress and decorated with golden feathers. On closer inspection, Bash noticed that the length of her skirts had shimmering yellow fabric worked in that resembled flames.

"A phoenix - risen from the ashes," he muttered, feeling torn between fascination and nervous anxiety.  
"This is the first time I've seen her wearing a different color other than black after Francis' death." Mary, whom he had granted the place of honor right by his side, leaned over to him and was staring equally fascinated at her late husband's mother.

Obviously, Catherine was not only declaring the end of her period of mourning, but she was also sending out a message.  
She would never surrender to defeat.  
Like a phoenix, she would always rise again to claim what she thought was rightfully hers or her children.

Never before had Catherine de Medici looked more beautiful.  
Or dangerous.


	7. Chapter 7

"Don’t let Catherine distract or even provoke you. Focus on your future bride. Lord Duvalle’s youngest daughter is a sight for sore eyes, isn’t she?" Narcisse was leaning over, smugly intruding into Sebastian's personal space as if he could get away with just about anything. Obviously, Catherine's big entrance had not escape his attention either. And judging by the look on his face, the Lord liked what he was seeing, even though he tried very hard to conceal his reaction. 

Sebastian stared at the dark-haired girl in front of him. Narcisse was right. She was extremely attractive and looked as delicate as a flower with her dark doe eyes and doll-like face. Yet he could not banish Catherine's sight from his mind's eye. All these sweet and naïve girls faded in direct comparison with the legendary Medici Queen. 

And suddenly, Bash knew what kind of a wife he should be looking for. Not one he would need to turn into a monarch, but one who already had the demeanor and charisma of a true Queen.   
But finding such a woman was more difficult than realizing what he was actually searching for. 

Marrying Mary was totally out of question, that much he knew, although she certainly met all his demands.  
Irritated by his own considerations, his gaze searched for Catherine in the crowd. When he finally detected her, Sebastian took a closer look.   
She did not only have this very special and majestic appearance, Catherine was still an attractive woman. Her maturity and life experience suited her well and Bash knew that a very feminine and desirable body was hidden beneath the thick layers of her dress. A body that had admittedly evoked wet dreams for him in the past.   
Sebastian asked himself what he wouldn’t give to call a woman of her caliber his future Queen? 

Before his imagination could get the better of him – or worse, embarrass him in public - Bash called himself to order. He could not seriously consider the possibility of making Catherine de Medici his wife and Queen? The very idea of marrying her caused Bash to break into a cold sweat, prompting him to rub his forehead in frustration. 

Catherine was his late father’s widow, the mother of his half siblings, the person who probably hated him the most right now. Not to mention that she scared the hell out of him on a regular basis. 

"Bash, are you all right?" Mary interrupted his train of thought and looked at him with a worried expression on her face.   
"I could use some fresh air," Sebastian admitted, grateful for the opportunity to escape his thoughts and the craziness that was taking place around him.   
Mary eyed him intensely, then she reached for his arm and led the King of France outside. They deliberately ignored Narcisse's reproachful glare that was aimed at them. 

"What's wrong?" she asked quietly once they had reached the lake’s shore. "You look like someone who had just seen a ghost."  
"Very fitting, a ghost from the past. Mary, I wonder if I could have inherited my father's madness."  
"Oh, Bash, but Henry had been poisoned." Mary stopped in her tracks and looked at him with concern.   
"I know, it's just..." he hesitated briefly, indecisively whether he should actually say it out aloud.   
"What's bothering you?"

"There is this woman who has what it takes to be the next Queen of France."  
"You choose your wife for her potential as a Queen?" Mary asked him in surprise.   
"I have to. At least one of us should know what he or she is doing."  
"Oh please, don't sell yourself short. You are a good man and France and your subjects can be lucky to have you as their King!"  
"Don't worry, I know my worth. But it takes more than a good heart and the best intentions to guide the fate of a whole realm. And the woman I have in mind is capable of doing exactly that. I'm sure she doesn't see me as a potential husband, but she knows how to adapt to certain situations. Even when dealing with someone like me."

"Oh, no, Bash, I hope you're not talking about me. I couldn’t... I mean..."  
"No Mary," Sebastian hurried to put the Queen of Scots out of her plight.   
"I’m sorry, I didn’t intend it to sound like that. Please don’t get me wrong, it’s just that..." Mary started, but Bash interrupted her once again.  
"It's okay, Mary. I know that you and I… well, we’ve tried - but you loved Francis, you still do - and I would never compromise his memory or his wife in any possible way." 

Overtaken by relief, Mary reached for his hand and squeezed it gently.  
"Then tell who you’re talking about?"  
Bash took a deep breath before answering her question.   
"I'm talking about Catherine."

"Catherine?" Mary asked in disbelief and her eyes widened.  
"I know, this sounds crazy. She hates me. And she was my father's wife, which makes the whole idea even stranger. But Mary, France needs Catherine, and with Narcisse and the privy council breathing down my neck, I can’t possibly offer her the position I would like her to occupy. I know she'd rather kill than marry me right now, but if you could help me persuading her..." Bash broke off and suppliantly stared at the Queen of Scots. 

Mary stared back, deeply lost in thought, as if imagining this possible scenario in full detail. Then she assessed Sebastian with watchful eyes.   
"You can actually imagine marrying Catherine de Medici?"  
"Why not? She would be the perfect choice. The perfect Queen."  
"I'm not talking about her qualities as a monarch. Her qualifications in this area are non-controversial, we both know that. I'm talking about your plan of taking her as your wife."  
"That idea scares me a bit, I have to admit. Which is probably because she has already tried getting rid of me. For that reason, I would need some kind of life insurance, should I decide to continue with my plan."

Bash indecisively ran his fingers through his dark hair. It sounded surreal discussing his potential marriage to Catherine with Mary.  
"Marrying you would actually improve her son’s chances of taking the throne than any other marriage you could bestow in. For if this marriage remains childless, Charles would still be the next in line. Potential children with another woman would relegate the remaining Valois princes’s position as successor. And your marriage to Catherine would be platonic anyway, so you wouldn't have to worry about heirs." Upon hearing this, Sebastian looked at Mary with growing uneasiness.  
"To pay respect to the truth, I have no intention of having a platonic marriage."

After hearing this statement, Mary eyed him full of curiosity.   
"You actually want to sleep with her? Bash!"  
"What's wrong with that? She is a beautiful woman. Just because she was my father's wife doesn't mean that..."  
"Bash! You don't have to explain yourself to me. I just never thought that you could be interested in Catherine in that way."

The two of them remained silent for a minute or two where Sebastian wondered whether it had been a mistake, bringing this subject up at all.   
"Oh my God, you have feelings for her!" Mary's cheerful exclamation caused him to stumble as if she had literally pulled the rug out from under his feet. Swaying slightly, Bash shook his head. He didn’t know if he was lying to himself or to Mary. But Mary ignored his silent protest and continued rather unimpressed. "You have always watched out for her, despite her scheming nature and I didn't even have to persuade you to help me proving her innocence when Narcisse framed her of Francis' murder. And the night you saved her from freezing to death... I always wondered what drove you out to look for her. It was your concern for Catherine." 

Hearing all this coming from Mary's mouth made his discomfort grow. She had brought a secret to light he had not even dared to admit to himself. But now it was too late to hide the truth.  
He, Sebastian de Portier, had feelings for Catherine de Medici.

"This means we need to come up with a plan about how to give France and its King the Queen they both need and desire."   
Surprised by Mary’s enthusiasm, Bash could do nothing but stare at her in wonder. Was he mistaken or did he detect a familiar twinkle in her eyes?   
"You're not shocked?" he asked cautiously.   
"No, since Catherine has also managed to steal my heart despite all the things, she had done to me in the past. It is hard not to admire or at least respect her for her passion and the unconditional love she feels for her children. And once you get to know the real Catherine de Medici and learn to understand her motives, you can’t help but love her in the end."

Bash could hear sincere affection out of Mary’s words.   
"This means you are going to help me?" he asked and the thought that he might have found an ally in her, not only someone who knew his secret, but someone who would help him achieve his plan, meant the world to him.   
"Yes, because I believe that Catherine will also benefit from this union. Now we need to come up with a concrete plan. And you need a contract. A contract that is bulletproof and keeps you alive. One she can’t possibly resist. I think your odds are not too bad. You're offering her something she cannot refuse in the end. And since Charles willingly rejected the throne, she won’t even be drawn into a moral conflict. Lord Narcisse is another factor in your favor. Catherine seethes with rage as soon as she set eyes on him and with your offer you will finally free her from feeling powerless."

Mary already seemed very hooked by this idea, a fact that encouraged Bash.   
"I think I should seek conversation with her tonight," he mused, driven by his newfound courage. Mary nodded in agreement.   
"You should do that. Come on, let's go back inside. Or else people will think that I have kidnapped the King of France out of desperation for not having found a suitable husband."


End file.
